


Rare Insight into British Relations

by Ismene_Jane



Series: Mary Sue Bestie Threesome Ridiculousness [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Balthazar is alive, Complete Insanity, Crack, F/M, M/M, Mary Sue, Multi, PWP, Ridiculousness, Threesome, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-22
Updated: 2014-02-22
Packaged: 2018-01-13 09:37:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1221415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ismene_Jane/pseuds/Ismene_Jane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Balthazar and Crowley were minding their own business (read: getting ready to bone), when they were abruptly zapped to a little parsonage in Shropshire.<br/>There, they find Lucy, a lovely young woman with unforeseen summoning capabilities.</p>
<p>Hilarious British sex ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rare Insight into British Relations

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Pegasus_Eridana](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pegasus_Eridana/gifts).



> So when Pegasus_Eridana and I were talking one night, she mentioned that she thought that she was between Balthazar and Crowley, personality-wise. Then she had to take a moment to imagine what that would be like in reality.
> 
> I thought it would be the most hilarious British sex in the HISTORY of British sex and we had a nice laugh. I jokingly told her I should write a Mary Sue where that very thing occurred, and then she asked me, kindly (or begged, whatever), to write it.
> 
> ...so I did. 
> 
> Good friends listen to stories of your ridiculous love life, REALLY good friends write porn for one another.
> 
> None of this is mine, and none of it happened. Names have been changed, just like reality.
> 
> Hope you like it!

There was a bright white flash and Balthazar and Crowley looked around, bewildered, and found themselves standing in a quaint British parsonage. Something in Balthazar tingled in recognition at the setting, which was surely his vessel remembering his life before Balthazar came along with his “Let me use you as a vessel”.

So maybe the life of debauchery and cookies wasn’t quite what his vessel (a nice parson named Alfred) had been expecting, but hey, you can’t please everyone.

“Blimey,” came a voice from directly behind Balthazar, “it actually worked.” Balthazar and Crowley turned in tandem and were greeted with the sight of a young woman seated on a floral chaise lounge, various summoning spell accoutrements spread out in front of her.

Balthazar felt a wholly different kind of tingle coming from his demon companion and held a hand out to stop the Scot from killing the lovely, _innocent_ woman in front of them before Balthazar could get some questions answered.

“Pardon me, love,” he started gently, throwing as much British nicety into the sentence as he possibly could, “but what worked, exactly?”

“And who the fuck are you, while you’re at it?” Threw in Crowley, making Balthazar roll his eyes in fond exasperation. All the more so when he saw the young woman’s cheeks flush bright double-decker bus red.

“Really, Fergus, must we? I’m quite sure there’s a reasonable explanation for this.” He turned to the young woman, who looked as if she couldn’t decide if she wanted to be swallowed whole by her sitting-room floor or take a running leap at Crowley.

“Oh g-goodness,” she managed to stammer. “F-Fergus? As in, Fergus Crowley?” Crowley began to radiate a smug pleasure, and Balthazar thought that if his eyes rolled any harder, they’d have to dig them out from the back of his head.

“One and the same, love.” Balthazar looked over, and yes, there was the smile. Good Lord. “Now, I hate to be a bother, but do you mind telling me who the _hell_ you are and what the _hell_ my wing-ed companion and I are doing in… where the fuck are we, anyway?”

The young woman finally seemed to compose herself at the comment, and Balthazar was surprised to find that he actually found her quite lovely. She had creamy-pale skin and beautiful brown eyes, with silky, wavy brown hair to match. She was the kind of beauty that this generation might overlook at first, but Dante Gabriel Rossetti would have had an absolute _conniption fit_ over.

“Of course,” she said, standing from the chaise lounge and smoothing her wild hair, “I’m ever-so sorry. My name is Lucy Bennett, and you are in my father’s parsonage in Shropshire.” Ah yes, that was why this particular parsonage was so familiar, it was Alfred’s. Or had been, before Balthazar had snatched him away almost nine years ago.

“And you’ve been here for about nine years, I suspect?”

Lucy Bennett looked flummoxed for a moment, before composing herself once again. Balthazar was surprised to feel a slight surge of want from Crowley; it seemed that Crowley had the same reaction to flummoxing just about anyone. Interesting.

“I have, yes, how did you know?” She eyed Balthazar with a shrewd scrutiny, showing no fear in a situation that should have been terrifying. _Very_ interesting.

“No matter,” Balthazar waved the question off, “but the question remains, though perhaps not phrased in such a crude manner as my companion would put it. But, sometimes a little crudeness is called for, no? So, to repeat, for what I hope to be the last time, what the bleeding _fuck_ are we doing here?”

“Oh, that. Well… you see… it’s actually a bit of a funny story. Hilarious, really.” She gave a slightly hysterical laugh, which Balthazar found quite endearing.

“I’m sure we’ll all have a jolly laugh about it. Now get to the bloody point.” Apparently, Fergus didn’t find it as endearing.

“Right. Quite right.” She straightened herself up and looked both of them in the eye. My, what a brave thing. Balthazar was truly intrigued. “My friend Maddie and I were watching Supernatural and the boys were doing a summoning spell and I thought that it would be a lark to summon Balthazar. Never dreamed it would work. Just something to brighten up a dull Saturday afternoon, really. I _am_ terribly sorry if I’ve inconvenienced you.”

Balthazar was now not just intrigued, he was fascinated. “You mean to tell us that you managed to summon me here from an alternate dimension, and you did it for a _lark_? With no help whatsoever?”

That attractive blush was back. “Well… yes. That seems to be the short and the long of it.” She laughed self-consciously and Balthazar turned to Crowley to see if he was as gobsmacked as he was.

Crowley’s eyes were fairly bugging out of his head. “I don’t think I’ve got this straight,” he said, “you’re not a witch, then?”

“Not as such, no.”

“And you’ve never attempted this sort of magic before?”

“Nope!”

“Blimey.”

“That’s what _I_ said! But what _I’m_ wondering is how it is that you’re here.” Now it was Balthazar’s turn to blush. He turned to Crowley, not being able to answer this question himself. Crowley had that secret smile on his face, the one he wore when he was particularly happy with himself.

“Well, Ms. Bennett, you may have interrupted some… shall we say, private time.” He grinned fully at Lucy, whose blush took on a shade quite similar to a tomato’s. She looked at their slightly disheveled states, eyes lingering slightly on Balthazar’s chest, which made him puff it out a bit in pride.

“Oh, my.” And suddenly Balthazar was assaulted with images of Fergus and himself in various states of undress and coitus. He reeled from the sudden arousal it caused before he realized that the images were prim Ms. Bennett’s _thoughts_.

_Well_ , he thought, _this is turning out to be a_ much _better happenstance than previously thought._

 

_~~~~_

 

Lucy could feel herself flush at the onslaught of images that her overactive imagination provided her with. Crowley and Balthazar kissing; their tongues tangling for dominance while Crowley slid one hand into Balthazar’s hair and the other possessively over his ass.

Cut to an equally fascinating picture of Balthazar’s head tipped back, eyes closed and mouth slack in pleasure as Crowley sucked his cock with a shocking mix of ferocity and reverence. One of Balthazar’s hands was twisted in Crowley’s hair and the other was on the wall behind him, helping him to balance on clearly wobbly legs.

The images kept coming and Lucy couldn’t stop them. She hadn’t even realized that she was staring until Crowley’s amused voice cut through her lust-hazed thoughts.

“My, my, Ms. Bennett, you are just _full_ of surprises, aren’t you?”

“Lucy,” she croaked, clearing her throat. “Please, call my Lucy. And _do_ excuse me. That is just a very... well… anyhoo… I suspect you’ll be wanting to get back to your own reality.” She began fussing with the magazines and books on the drawing-room table. A thought occurred to her, and she couldn’t stop it before it came out of her mouth. “Wait, you can read my mind? That’s different. From the show, I mean.”

Crowley turned to Balthazar. “What the bloody hell is she talking about?”

“Ah, yes. The show. We are in a reality where the Winchesters’ story is being documented on a television show titled “Supernatural” and it is shockingly similar to our own. I haven’t quite worked out how that’s happening, but I sent the boys here a few years back.” Balthazar looked lost in musings for a moment, and Lucy almost laughed at the suddenly terrified expression on Crowley’s face.

“Winchesters. Here? They’re not… not still here are they?” He didn’t turn his head from side to side, but his eyes were darting around the room. Lucy couldn’t hold back a laugh.

“Not that I’m aware of,” she said with an indulgent smile. “Balthazar?”

“No love, not here. You can relax.” Lucy caught Balthazar’s eyes and they shared a twinkling amusement at Crowley’s uncharacteristic fear.

“Shut it,” said demon retorted, blushing for the first time since the two arrived. “They might be a moose and a model, but they can wreak serious havoc.” Lucy’s breath caught in her throat when Balthazar leaned in to nuzzle at Crowley’s cheek.

“I know, love. You’re a big bad demon who is only afraid of plaid-encased killing machines.” He mouthed along Crowley’s ear, making the demon smile and Lucy’s blood speed up. Goodness. Those two were sexy as sin.

“To answer your question, Ms. …Lucy, I can see your thoughts and am transmitting them to Crowley. Terribly rude of me, I know. I hope you’ll forgive me.” Balthazar smiled at Lucy and her heart starting beating even faster. Where was her British calm? They needed to leave before she truly embarrassed herself.

“Of… of course.” And of course the images were back. When did it get so hot in here? And why was Balthazar palming across Crowley’s chest. They were trying to kill her.

Arousal-induced death. What a way to go.

“Well,” she said, trying to regain her composure and shut up her thoughts. She flushed suddenly at the thought that they might be laughing at her. Crowley was a demon, after all, and Balthazar was always kind of a prick. Oh crikey, they could hear her. “Well,” she repeated, feeling silly and teary-eyed at the thought, “I apologize again for inconveniencing you, but I trust that you can find your way back?” She kept her eyes resolutely on the table, pretending that this month’s cover of Field and Stream was the most interesting thing she had seen in her twenty short years of life.

She started when she felt a warm hand on her chin, lifting her eyes to Balthazar’s, which were suddenly directly in front of her.

“Ah, love, don’t think like that. We weren’t making fun of you at all.” His eyes were soft and kind, and his lips were right _there_ , speaking in that voice that she might have dreamed about a time or two. And how was it possible that the real Balthazar looked _just_ like Sebastian Roche? Her lucky day, she supposed.

Weren’t things like this meant to happen to glamorous people?

“You… you weren’t?” She was still staring at his lips, propriety be damned. She had a feeling she was going to be damning it much further before the afternoon was out.

“No, Lucy. We were not. I find you quite lovely, actually, and so does Fergus. Don’t you, love?”

And there was Crowley, chin over Balthazar’s shoulder, arms wrapped around his waist. It was almost too much visual stimulation for Lucy to bear, particularly when mixed with the physical stimulation of Balthazar’s hand moving down to trace lines on her neck. She bit back a whimper.

“Indeed. I think it would be most… prudent of us to take advantage of this fortuitous meeting. Since you went to the trouble of summoning Bal here. Least we could do.” Lucy closed her eyes at the spike of arousal that shot up her spine. This didn’t happen. Not to her. Not to quiet Lucy from Shropshire who was studying History and English at University in York.

She’d never even written it into her own fan fiction. It was such an absurd idea.

…Not that she… _wrote_ fan fiction. Or anything. Oh, hush, you.

She’d have to send Maddie an indecently large fruit basket. The kind with muffins and chocolates.

“She’s thinking about fruit baskets,” Balthazar commented, wryly. “We’re not doing our job, Fergus.”

And then he was kissing her. Balthazar, angel of the _Lord_ for cripes sake was kissing her. The sensation was overwhelming and her hands moved of their own volition, coming up to frame his strong jaw as his tongue traced her lips, begging entrance. She opened her lips at his questing tongue and breathed out a moan when it pushed slickly against her own.

This wasn’t happening. This was _not_ happening. Thank the heavens above her parents had decided to go into town and leave her alone for the day.

“And now she’s thinking about her _parents_ , Fergus,” Balthazar said, pulling away from her mouth. “I must be losing my touch.” Lucy blushed out of embarrassment, again, mortified at the thought.

“Oh, _heavens_ no! Please do forgive me, I’m just a bit nervous.” She closed her eyes, trembling with both arousal and mortification.

“Nothing to be nervous about, love,” Crowley’s voice slithered into her ear from where he was suddenly standing behind her. Lucy started a little at the feel of his hands bracketing her hips, fingers circling inwards. “You’re going to do perfectly.” The warmth of his breath against her ear was making her slightly dizzy.

“Unless…” Balthazar paused, pulling his face _far_ too far from Lucy’s. “Unless you’d rather not? Don’t want to push you just because we were a bit randy before you so _rudely_ summoned us here.” His eyes twinkled in amusement.

“No!” Lucy squeaked, reaching up to pull him back so that he was flush against her. “No. I just… I haven’t done this before, is all.” She could feel the blush all the way to the tips of her ears. _Damn_ her bloody British upbringing to hell and back. “But I… want to. Truly, I do.” She smiled in what she hoped was an encouraging way.

“Well then,” Crowley said, fingers tracing even lower to cup her through her jeans, “let’s get on with it, shall we? If the two of you are done being deathly polite, that is.”

“Fuck you, Fergus,” Balthazar retorted, his eyes narrowing with challenge. “You want polite? I’ll bloody well _show_ you polite.” And with that he dove forward and reclaimed Lucy’s mouth, while his hands began undoing the button and zip of her trousers.

It was too much sensation, all at once. Crowley’s hands had moved out of the way and were now cupping roughly at her breasts, his mouth was kept busy sucking bruises into her neck. She knew she should mind more, but she figured that Balthazar could just heal them when they were done.

Balthazar had gotten her jeans undone and was now sliding his rough, callused hands into her panties and between the folds of her labia. Her breathing sped up even more and she leaned her head back against Crowley’s shoulder to pant and moan as Balthazar’s fingers moved against her clit, his eyes locked on hers.

“Oh heavens, Fergus, she’s _wet_.” Crowley rasped out a moan from behind her and snuck his hand down to join Balthazar’s, the two men meeting for a kiss over Lucy’s shoulder as they touched her.

“Mmmm,” Crowley hummed, as he batted Balthazar’s hand out of the way and slid a finger inside of her. “She’s nice and tight, too. I’m betting you want to be in there, love?” Lucy could not possibly handle this conversation. Her arms were up over Balthazar’s shoulders and she felt like a puppet in their incredibly amazing game.

_Never let this end_ , she thought. And then, _a bed might be nice._

“Of course, love. Right away.” And with that, Crowley snapped his fingers and they were up in Lucy’s room, shucking off her clothes without so much as a by-your-leave. Not that she was complaining, no. This was definitely on the list of fantastic-ways-to-lose-your-virginity.

Her friends would be so proud.

…Not that any of them would believe her.

Before she knew it she was sprawled out on her bed with Crowley behind her, back against the headboard. He was kissing her and massaging her breasts so thoroughly she yelped in surprise when she felt something slick and strong between her legs.

Lucy knew she would never forget, if she lived to be a hundred and two, the sight of Balthazar’s face in between her legs.

He was spreading her thighs wide and tonguing around her cunt, moaning as he did so. Which was kind of a revelation of the best sort, really.

“Taste good, love?” Crowley teased, making Lucy moan even louder with his sexy-rough voice in her ear. Balthazar just moaned and used his fingers to spread her further open so he could lave at her clit with his tongue while he moved a finger up to sink deep inside of her.

It was too much. Too much. Lucy’s hips pulled up sharply as her brain tried to process the overwhelming sensations assaulting her nerve endings. She felt something tight and hot in her chest and thought it might be panic.

“Hush love,” Crowley said, surprisingly kindly for the demon, “we’ve got you. Just breathe and feel.”

“You alright, Luce?” Balthazar asked, eyes looking up at her in concern even while his finger was still buried inside of her. The kindness radiating from the two men reassured her, and she breathed deeply and nodded.

“Yes, yes, I’m alright. Don’t,” she almost couldn’t say it, “please don’t stop.” It came out a whisper, but she got it out. Take _that_ , propriety!

Balthazar’s smile turned predatory. “Wouldn’t dream of it, love.” And he went back to work.

This time, when he began moving his finger in and out and the feeling of tightness returned, Lucy just breathed through it.

_I’m going to have_ sex, she thought. _With_ two _men. Just breathe, it’s going to be fine._

She could feel her body relaxing into the sensation, even as her orgasm began to build from deep within her. The feeling intensified as Balthazar added a second finger and began scissoring the two, spreading her open, his lips locked around her clit as he sucked, licked, and bit at her.

“That’s it, love. That’s it. You’re such a secretly dirty thing, aren’t you?” Crowley’s voice had her blood spiking with want, the orgasm creeping up closer and closer. “Just give in. Do you feel his mouth on you? How hungry he is for you? He hasn’t had a taste of cunt in so long and he’s just _loving_ yours. I bet he’s imagining what it’s going to feel like, being buried in you.” Lucy’s eyes rolled up into her head and the words whispered seductively into her ear mixed with the burn of Balthazar adding a third finger had her seeing stars as she came.

“Gaah… Gaaaa… _Gadzooks!”_ she exclaimed, her twat clenching tightly around Bal’s fingers and Crowley chuckling deep in her ear.

She started laughing a few seconds later, the orgasm making her giddy.

“Gadzooks?” Balthazar queried, suddenly hovering over her, and very, _very_ naked.

“Erm, yes?” She didn’t have the energy to be embarrassed, so she just smiled lazily up at him. “It was… quite nice, after all.” Crowley let out a deep belly laugh from behind her.

“You hear that Balthy? _Quite_ nice. Well, I think that’s a fairly glowing review, don’t you?”

“Just leaves room for improvement is all,” Bal responded, swatting the other man playfully on the arm. He turned his attention to Lucy. “Now, love, are you sure you’re up for this? We could just stop here, if you’d rather.” Lucy balked at the thought. No, she’d come this far, she’d bloody well cross the finish line.

“Oh just shut up you Limey bastard, and _fuck_ the girl already. She wants it badly enough.” Lucy barked out a laugh and looked up at Balthazar’s offended/aroused countenance.

“Precisely what thistle arse said.” Balthazar laughed out loud, and rewarded Lucy’s brazenness with a kiss, even as Crowley bristled behind her.

“Oh, I quite like you,” Balthazar said, lining himself up. “I think I’ll have you right now.”

And then he did.

~~~

A scant hour later, the three of them were lying in a sweaty heap on her bed. Lucy’s hand was still loosely wrapped around Crowley’s softening cock and Balthazar was still trembling with the aftershocks of having come deep inside of her.

Thank _God_ for angels and their no-STD guarantee.

Lucy was sated and full of warmth. She was just sad at the thought of having to relinquish the two men. She sighed out loud.

“Well,” she began, disheartened. “I suppose you two will be on your way. I hope you’ll stay for a cuppa before you go.”

“Why Ms. Bennett,” Crowley grumbled, “you aren’t kicking us out already are you?” Lucy tensed up before she felt Bal smiling against her chest.

“Not at all, I just thought it would be polite to offer. Of course you may stay as long as you like.” She could feel the happiness practically pouring off of her. Good Lord if her grandmum could see her now. Balthazar chuckled against her.

“You really _must_ stop thinking about your grandmum while I’m still inside of you, love. Poor form, that.” Lucy smiled and tangled her fingers in his short hair, leaning back into Crowley for a lazy kiss. She sighed, contentedly this time, and hummed in pleasure.

“Of course,” she said. “I just have two questions.”

“Mmm, what’s that, love?”

“First, did you really die?” Balthazar lifted his head from her chest, eyeing her curiously.

“I did,” he answered. “Crowley brought me back.” Crowley’s fingers tangled with Lucy’s in Bal’s hair.

“Far too boring a world without you, darling.” Lucy smiled at their rapport. It really was very cute. “I am not cute, Ms. Bennett. You end that thought right this instant.”

“Give it a rest, Fergie.” Bal batted his eyelashes at the demon, who tightened his hold in the blonde’s hair for a moment before relaxing back again.

“Fine. You English can be so frustrating. You _know_ how I hate that moniker.” Lucy smiled even brighter.

“I promise not to call you that, Crowley,” she promised. Her smile faltered when Bal slipped from her, stickily. He healed her with a soft touch to the insides of her thighs, and Lucy was almost sad that she wouldn’t feel the burn later on.

“Thanks for that, love.” Crowley’s voice pulled her from her musings. “Now, what was the second question?”

“Oh, that.” She smiled sheepishly. “I was simply wondering if you had managed to force Dean and Castiel to admit their love for one another as of yet?” Balthazar sat up abruptly, clear frustration written on his face.

“Christ, _no_ ,” he said, angrily. “Those _two_. They’ll be the death of me. What could possibly be more obvious, I ask you?”

“ _Exactly,_ ” Lucy agreed, sitting up, “it’s completely ridiculous.”

Crowley grumbled at the change of position, but soon they were all three seated on her bed.

“Have you tried simply cuddling Dean into submission?” Lucy asked, mirth written all over her face. “I’m convinced it would work. Poor boy just needs to know that he deserves love. Or you could lock them in a broom closet together.”

“Tried that,” Crowley griped. “Didn’t work. Those two are hopeless.” Balthazar looked up in dismay.

“They are _not_ , Fergus! They just need a little help along.”

“That’s precisely what I’ve been saying all along!” Lucy got up on her knees focusing on Balthazar. “So, a cuddle fest? I think it’s in order.”

“Christ,” said Crowley, getting off the bed. “Angels and women. I’m bloody doomed. I’m going to go fetch some tea and whiskey while the two of you wet yourselves about the moon-eyed angel/man and his plaid-covered pet.” He leaned over and kissed Lucy and then Balthazar.

“You’re ever-so much sweeter in real life than on the show,” Lucy informed him, hand on his back.

“You tell anyone and I’ll smite you down, love.” Crowley said, before disappearing to (Lucy suspected) the kitchen.

“It’s only for me,” Balthazar said conspiratorially, winking theatrically. “He’s such a right bastard with everyone else.” Lucy smiled and felt that warmth creep back in. These two. So lovely.

“This will seem like such a nice dream, come tomorrow,” she said, wistfully. Balthazar lifter her head for the second time that day and kissed her, gently.

“We’ll be coming round again, love, if you want us. I can promise you that. I mean, we have a cuddle-fest to plan, haven’t we? And we might as well bring the dolts to you, as you seem to be very persuasive.” He grinned like the rake he was and Lucy launched himself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her lips to his.

Definitely getting Maddie the largest fruit basket in the history of fruit baskets. And perhaps some flowers as well.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and such would be nice. CHWH will be updated on Monday! :D


End file.
